


You Know My Feelings About That

by rl4sb4eva



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rl4sb4eva/pseuds/rl4sb4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone lives in the hotel together and everything is happy and fine. Then there is the need for a trip to IKEA...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know My Feelings About That

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the fandom needed some cheering up (and one fangirl in particular) so I wrote us (her) this, every bad thing that happened in the show didn’t happen.

Mitchell in rubber gloves is still a rare sight in the hotel. He realised very quickly that a half-arsed job at the plates was the best thing he ever did, Hal had looked shocked and appalled at the dried food clinging to the china and promptly rewashed every item of cutlery and crockery in the house.

But he’s pulled them on for this, wiping blood off the wallpaper and God… Fuck knows what else off the floor, and he glares over his shoulder at the assembled wolves, “really, you couldn’t have at least tried to get to the cellar, no you had to change in the living room, and I’m not cleaning up whatever the white sticky stuff is… Really! That’s just disgusting.”

They can hear Hal having a mild breakdown in the hallway while Alex tries to explain that its fine, the others will sort it out, and no he can’t bleach leather.

“I think this sofas a write-off.” Tom says, and at least has the good grace to look a little chagrined when Mitchell glares at him over a particularly stubborn spot of something he doesn’t want to think about on the carpet.

“IKEA?” George says hopefully and quietly, not meeting Mitchell’s eyes and instead staring at Nina’s shoes, one of which has a set of teeth marks on the toe.

No one comments on the ‘oh hell no’ from the hallway when Alex has to rentaghost Hal to the top of the house to stop him breaking down the door when Tom spits on a cloth and scrubs at a mark on the bar top.

The car journey is awful, Hal and Mitchell take over the front of Mitchell’s car with the ghosts in the back seat and George gets stuck with Tom in the van.  
The car is quiet and sullen in the front, both vampires had already voiced their objections loudly in the kitchen, and there had been repeated comments that all boiled down to “why are we all going, surely just the werewolves will be fine”.

Nina had left for work that morning with a cheery “don’t kill each other, bring me back a flurklejol or whatever.” And a quick kiss on George’s cheek smothering the whispered ‘I love you’ as Annie smiled on, cup of tea in hand midway through a debate on the perfect amount of time a teabag should be left to steep with Alex (3 minutes to 5 minutes). A long running argument that is less arguing more vocal discussion with occasional breaks for ghost-offs (as Tom calls them, much to everyone else’s annoyance).

The van isn’t much better, Tom has been drinking Annie’s tea, too polite to say no every time she offers or simply puts a cup in front of him, and is twitchy and unable to still in the seat.

George drives, trying to ignore the small tear in the knee of Tom’s jeans that is making him long to patch it.

They spill out of the vehicles quickly as soon as they’ve parked, the ghosts disappearing quickly and calling back that they’ll find them inside.

Mitchell grumbles as they grab the trolleys and attempt to navigate the ridiculous revolving door arrangement, he agrees silently when Hal mutters ‘what the hell was wrong with doors?’ and shoves his trolley slightly more viciously than needs be.

George has, as always, compiled a list before leaving the house, driving everyone insane with colour choices and cushions, before Hal had left the room shouting ‘why does it matter, you’ll just spill ‘spag bol’ on it’, Annie had waited till he was halfway up the stairs before commenting that she didn’t think anyone had ever said ‘spag bol’ with such vitriol and dragged Alex off to make more tea, giggling with Nina in the kitchen about fuck knows.

They pick out a sofa quickly, take note of the numbers and move onwards, all ignoring Hal’s little moan at the shelving units and his ‘but it would make things better, we could organise the books and board games’ and his little whimper when Tom bumps into a shelf and sends himself reeling into a basket of stuffed monkeys knocking them all over the floor.

They find the girls bouncing on the beds, and running obstacle courses much to the bemusement of the staff, as mattresses start lifting up and creating jumps. Hal catches himself before he shouts at them to stop being an idiot, and George has to clamp an arm around Tom’s upper arm to stop him joining them, but he smiles nonetheless and waits a few minutes before quietly asking Annie to stop.

She pokes her tongue at him and lobs a pillow at his head, going back to bouncing. An old woman nearby starts, and George has to think why before realising that pillows don’t normally launch themselves apropos of nothing off a now unmade bed and towards peoples heads.

Alex claims loudly that she’s hungry and wants meatballs, demanding that George and Tom have food so the girls can taste them, and dime cake she shouts loudly as they start to pick bedding and take the codes down for at least two new beds.

It’s 3 hours from entering the store that they finally reach the tills, the ghosts are having the time of their lives, flicking things at sour faced shoppers and hiding things in their clothing to avoid paying.

George and Tom are stuffed to the gills with meatballs and cake, and someone gave Tom coffee, someone that George is going to kill, even if they are already dead.

Mitchell is shoving the trolley violently down every aisle and towards the tills, face scaring off any member of staff who comes close and most of the customers too. Growling slightly under his breath at the piles of cushions and fluffy things that have accumulated (at least three of which are stuffed monkeys, ‘one for each of the ladies of the house’ Tom had said as he shoved them in the bottom so it’s a surprise when they get back and Nina is off work.).

Hal is, well Hal is nowhere to be seen, he took the keys from Mitchell’s pocket halfway through food time and left the store with a face like thunder, completely ignoring Tom’s shouts of ‘c’mon mate, s’fun’ half garbled through a mouthful of meatball and sauce.

They pay, George tallying everything up as it goes through and panicking about how they are going to fit everything in the car, wondering aloud to Annie about whether they will have to tie things to the roof and flustering when Alex steals the van keys and throws them at his head with a call of ‘really?’, he scoops them off the floor and shoves them into the depths of his pocket, pulling his mobile out to read the text from Nina that says ‘It’ll be ok, don’t kill each other, love you xxx’ it makes him smile for the first time since he stepped into the store and he feels his heart skip.

The journey home is quiet, Annie and Alex swapping stories about growing up and dying young whilst surround by cushions and bedding and Hal has turned radio 4 on and is steadfastly ignoring everyone else, counting over and over in his head.

They pile into the house with everything, dump it in it’s respective rooms, rentaghosting makes moving the heavy stuff a lot easier when they actually realise this is an option. Of course they realise this when ¾ ‘s of the stuff is already moved and Annie appears in Hal’s room just as Mitchell and George lug in the mattress with the boxes containing the base in her arms.

Nina comes back halfway through the unpacking, stepping on a screw three seconds after she’s slid off her shoes and swearing loudly, ignoring Hal’s wince and Tom’s blushing face.

She throws together some food for the people who do still eat and they listen to the radio in semi-sullen, semi-content near silence.

Hal sits ramrod straight in a chair reading a book and humming along to the radio, occasionally breaking into song and ignoring Alex when she starts shouting ‘encore encore’ from the newly erected sofa (one arm is back to front but no-ones noticed yet and Tom is loathe to mention it as he built that one). He finally relents when the song changes, humming and singing little snatches of the tune ‘…why don’t you go where fashion sits… puttin’ on the ritz.’


End file.
